


This can't be real

by destielsuperwholockbandhoorah



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Dean, Castiel's diary, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining Castiel, Shy Castiel, first person (since it is a diary), sadder beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:37:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielsuperwholockbandhoorah/pseuds/destielsuperwholockbandhoorah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a record of Castiel's diary over a few years. He always thought his life was boring, that he would never have anything to write about, but then one day abeautiful green eyed boy walks into his life and Castiel can think of nothing else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This can't be real

**Author's Note:**

> I am not exactly sure if I am happy with how this progressed. If I am not to lazy I will go back and edit it. But I wanted to put it up here anyways. Enjoy. :)

June 10

My mother bought me this journal for my birthday recently. She said I don’t talk to enough people and I needed something to confide in. I think my silence has frustrated her, and it makes me a little sad to think that even she realizes that the only true friend I will ever have will be a book. I might use it at some point, but the idea doesn’t appeal to me. My thoughts are not complicated and I don’t need to wright them down.

I am a simple person. My name is Castiel Novak. I am 17 years old and will be a senior in high school next school year. I am an only child. I had a friend once, but he died and now I am alone. I have my mom, and she is a good woman, but she is still just my mom. I haven’t seen my dad in years.

I like to read. I like books and stories. I like pictures and painting. I like gardens and plants and animals. I like bees. I like hamburgers and peanut butter and jelly. There’s not much more to me than that and I am happy like this. What would I ever have to write about?

 

August 11

Today was the first day of school. I saw someone today. They were beautiful and I didn’t want to stop looking but I had to because they glanced my way.

 

August 12

His eyes are bright green. What was my favorite color before? Because now it is _that_ green. It’s such a lovely color.

 

August 15

I watch him sometimes when he isn’t looking. He hasn’t seen me yet. Do I want him to? I’m scared of what might happen if he does.

 

August 18

His hair is golden brown, and looking at it in the sun reminds me of the way light pools in honey. Is that too sappy of a thought for seeing someone only a week ago? Has it really been only a week?

 

August 21

I wonder how many freckles he has. I imagine being able to count them all. What I would give to look at that face for that long…

 

August 23

I never knew I had a thing for leather jackets, biker boots, and plaid. But now I think they might just be perfect. What have I gotten myself into?

 

August 27

A voice with colors like a sunset, and green laughing eyes haunt my dreams and I wake up smiling.

 

August 28

Sometimes I believe I am imagining this whole thing. It this real? How can someone like this, so perfect, exist anywhere but in the dreams of the disillusioned such as me?

 

August 29

His eyes sparkle when he talks to his friends about what he loves. I don’t mean to stare but I can’t help myself sometimes. I smile just to see his eyes light up like that.

 

September 2

What makes me like this? Why do I care? Why can’t I stop noticing things about him? I don’t want to know that his jacket smells like care-worn leather, or that his eyes are the exact green of the leaves on my favorite tree, or his favorite things are his car and his brother. Or that he moans when he eats pie in a way that sends hot shivers down my spine. I haven’t even talked to him. I don’t even know his name. I can’t feel like this.

 

September 4

His name is Dean. I heard someone call out the name when I was in the hall and I saw him turn. It’s worse now that I know his name. It makes everything too real. He is no longer like a character in a story, like all the books I like to read, a face and a smile and a voice. He is Dean, and I can’t get him out of my head. I feel like a fool for even saying any of this.

But still I roll that name around my mouth when I get home, enjoying how it feels on my tongue, imagining saying it to him. I like the name, mostly because it is his. I said it out loud into my empty room, and listening to the sound bounce off the walls of my room… there isn’t a more perfect word.

I am doomed.

 

September 5

He’s in my language arts class now. My quality of work has already slipped and my grade will be in danger of falling soon if this continues, ever since he switched here a few days ago I have been far too distracted. I think fate had something against me. I can’t focus. I need to be listening to the teacher, not the soft sounds of Dean whispering and laughing with his friends two rows back. He makes me angry and yet I cannot hate him for being who he is.

At first he was just a pretty face, all jaw and freckles and shining eyes and well fitted leather. But I’ve come to know him, in a way. I see him with his brother and his friends, and he’s so kind and caring and selfless, and as far from a bad person as can be imagined, despite the gruff exterior he flaunts. Sometimes he wears his heart on his sleeve and when I get a glimpse of it I feel honored. Even if he isn’t giving it to me, just to see a real, honest smile given to the person across from him, to hear a full bodied laugh from across the room, those simple things can make my day. I am warm all the way through me and yet at the same time I feel pathetic, cold, and lonely. It infuriates me that I am too afraid to talk to him, or to anyone. I don’t have friends to tell about this sort of thing. No one knows how I feel about this or about anything. They never have and they most likely never will. I am too good at lying on the outside.

 

September 9

We made eye contact today. I felt as if my heart was beating so loudly and so hard that it everyone could hear it and it would come bursting from my chest with the sheer force of my panic. But no one looked at me. No one that mattered anyways. My own pale blue eyes connected with his vibrant green ones though. And maybe it was only a second, maybe he barely even noticed. But I feel simultaneously sick to my stomach and like I am flying a million miles above the world even now.

I believe that what I have is a sickness. No one should be able to unconsciously make someone who they haven’t even spoken to feel this way with a single look. It isn’t fair that I have to be this way, shackled by my unwilling words and my obsessive sickness. Who am I to wish to deserve someone? Especially someone like Dean? I am no one, nothing. I am a plain background that everyone’s eyes glaze over and never care enough to see.

Dean saw me though, if only for a split second. I wonder what he saw in my eyes or if he even noticed. Was it merely chance? I am lost and tired of looking for the way out.

 

September 15

What makes some people more worthy than others? Is it by some process of fate? Have they done something that makes them deserving of more? Or is this cruel world just random and unfair? Is the future ruled by probability? By nature? Or do you control your own future? I know not any of the answers, I feel that I am as much a stranger to the workings of the universe as anyone. We can never know, it would seem. But still I feel as if it would help me to know. Am I disadvantaged because I am destined to stay this way forever? Have I disgraced myself in some way so that I receive nothing from the hands of fate? Of am I just unlucky in this gamble of a game we call life? I wish I knew.

I wish I knew what made some people get such good things, like Dean, while others remain empty handed. Why does Lisa Braeden get to be so lucky? What makes her so special? I have never expected much from life, I know that- whatever the reason- I am unworthy of good things. But I can’t help but wonder at and anguish over how other people are so much different than I. I just wish I could understand what makes them better than me. Not that it would help, I just want to know.

 

September 16

I might have been a tad abstract last time I wrote. I was sort of out of my head and I am ashamed of that now.

Dean has a girlfriend. It isn’t like I ever expected anything different, it just hurts more than I anticipated. I hadn’t realized how deeply emotionally invested I had become with this boy who is essentially a stranger. He doesn’t know me, I don’t know him, and I shouldn’t have allowed myself this feeling. It was naïve of me.

Additionally, Dean appears to be firmly heterosexual. And for a boy in my position, to be pining after someone such as that is doomed to heartbreak.

I can’t believe I just used that word. I am not heartbroken. I can’t be. I fit none of the stereotypes. I am not stuck on the couch listening to sad music and eating ice cream. (No more than normal anyways.) I am merely being painfully stripped of my illusions. I’ll get over it soon enough.

 

September 23

I can’t get over it. I am no prone to swearing, but lately the frustration has been tempting me. Dean Winchester (I learned his last name recently) has become permanent fixture in my head. And not like a small portrait in the back of the room. I mean like a grand piano on a raised dais in the middle of the room with spotlights. It’s infuriating. Yesterday, I got so angry about it that my eyes dampened my face and there were small half-moons on the palms of my hands from my fingernails. I am not angry with him. I couldn’t be. How would it be fair to be angry with him for something he never knew, from someone he didn’t know existed? The same goes for Lisa. She is a wonderful girl, and she deserves Dean I think, though it pains me to admit it. I can see how they fit together. They are happy and normal and sweet, as things should be.

No, I am not angry with them. I am angry with myself for letting this feeble part of humanity overtake me and control my life. What right do I have to think about someone like Dean, especially when he is an impossibility? None. And though it is only hurting me, I can’t make myself let go of this. I can’t forget about my ridiculous feeling and I can’t stop making up scenarios in my head. What would it have been like if I had said hello one day? Would anything have changed? Would I maybe at least have one friend? Could there have been a way where I was able to be close to Dean Winchester, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted? My mind is plagued by this endless stream of questions and speculations about what might have been and what could have been. It is unhealthy for me to think like that. I must stop.

 

October 1

It has been a long time since I confided my innermost thoughts here, it feels like. I had given up, I suppose, in trying to make sense of it all. I had been trying to drown out the thoughts, by smothering myself in school and work and staunchly not thinking about Dean. But it has been so hard and mostly my efforts were for naught. You might know that the harder you try to not think about something, the more you end up thinking about it.

It could be easy, I imagine, if Dean wasn’t in my class. Or at my school. I wouldn’t have to look at him every day, I wouldn’t have to dread hearing that laugh I crave or seeing that smile that used to make me so happy. They still make me happy, but in a bittersweet sort of way that hurts more than it does brighten my day. Because more often than not those pleasant things are directed at the girl on his arm. And she smiles easily back because she knows that she is his and that she possesses something of immeasurable value. I hope she knows that, because if she doesn’t, she does not deserve him.

I understand it. If I had-- but no, I mustn’t think like that. It sets me down a new path of pain that does me no good. All I would receive from it would be a headache and a sore heart.

The reason I broke today form my self-imposed thought ignoring is that honestly, it hurt too much not to. And it isn’t like anything matters anyways. The pressure was building and I couldn’t take it anymore. At least writing here, I can relieve myself of these thoughts and feel a little freer for a moment.

October 2

Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if I was someone else. If I was someone better, someone with more confidence and less fear, I would have talked to Dean when I first saw him. I would not be hiding in my room writing a journal about a boy they have no chance with. I would either have him or be done with him. But instead, I am stuck in a perpetual state of limbo, trapped by Dean. I have no good reason to let him go. I can’t anyways, and God knows I’ve tried. And I don’t really want to.

The problem is, there’s that one niggling voice in the back of my mind going, “you might have a chance. Maybe one day he’ll just come over to you, and you magically won’t embarrass yourself and…” the voice goes on but I’m not comfortable writing those sort of thoughts down. They can be a bit explicit.

That made me laugh.

I keep trying to deny to myself how much I wish that little voice in the back of my head was true. Not just the omitted parts, though I must admit, Dean is gorgeous and I wouldn’t object to something like that (I can say that because it is never _ever_ happening), but I want everything else too. I want all the mundane little moments. I want to talk to him, to say, “How was your day,” and have him answer. I want him to smile at me and hold my hand and cover me up with that leather jacket. I want to tell him my secrets and I want to hear his. I want to wrap my arms around him and feel his heartbeat against my own and never let him go.

And all these thoughts scare me so badly. How long have I known him? Less than two months. And I don’t even know him. I just watch him. I feel like a stalker sometimes, staring at the back of his head as hard as I can, as if willing him to turn around, simultaneously frightened and desperate for that to happen. These feelings are too strong and it is terrifying me.

Didn’t I write once, in the beginning, that I was happy, that I would have nothing to write about? How little I knew then, and how I wish I could go back.

 

October 4

If there is a God (I am very unsure at times) then he must hate me. He must want to punish me for something I have done. I just wish I knew what it was so that I could properly atone for it and not have to undergo this torture.

Everything has gone horribly, terribly wrong and there’s nothing I can do about it. Something has happened that might be both my best dream and my worst nightmare. I can’t decide which. This shivering in my limbs might be fear, and it might be anticipation. The feeling in my stomach could be either dread or excitement. I don’t know if I want to sing or puke.

Maybe how I am feeling is all of those things at once. I may never be sure, but either way I will not have any relief from these feelings for a very long time. I might shiver myself into a pile of kindling, or melt into a puddle on the floor. I could throw up or yell with joy and I don’t know what to focus on more. I know this is doomed.

Anyone I told of this would think me ridiculous. Who would have such nerves over a partner in class? I can answer that one well enough. I would. I am such a person as to have my heart once again trying to pound out of my chest as I think about that new partner, the one who happens to be named Dean Winchester. What shall I do? I am going to be stuck sitting two inches away from the guy (literally) of my dreams for the rest of the year.

 

October 6

Do you believe someone can die from fear? I am seriously beginning to have my doubts about the opinion that one cannot. Today was the first day sitting next to the person who has occupied my thoughts for so long. And it wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be, no, not at all. It was so much worse. He must think me sick for how my hands shook so much and insane for how my eyes avoided his own, and how pale I was, how I sweated. How am I going to work with him like this for the remainder of the semester? I believe that I might die from a heart attack long before then. Surely, my heart can’t endure this stress for much longer, physically and emotionally.

 

October 7

We spoke for the first time today, ever. It was so odd. I’d imagined a first conversation so many times in my head, I thought I knew how it would play out. I was wrong, but not unpleasantly so. I found that though speaking to Dean was a painful reminder of what I would never have, it also soothed the rawness of the emotions I had, making them bearable. And my characteristic silence was nearly nonexistent. I found I could actually talk to Dean, which was amazing in itself which made this all the worse. We discussed the assignment, and I was awkward and my voice shook, but I was able to look him in the eye a few times. And there I saw benevolence and kindness, and no impatience or pity. It was such a new sensation. He was interested in my input, and no matter how much that may fuel my obsession with this perfect being, and how much I resent that, it still makes me happy to know that maybe I might gain a friend, and that it might be Dean, the thought makes my heart soar. It saddens me to realize that a simple conversation can affect me so. Am I that pathetic? I must be. I’m not sure I mind anymore. Like this, I feel so much more than I did before and I am coming to understand that even feelings that hurt can be better than feeling next to nothing at all.

 

October 8

I made him smile today. If I live forever, that may be the thing I have accomplished that I treasure most in this world. I made Dean Winchester smile. I had looked at that face, that smile for so long and only seen its warmth directed at others. I thought I knew the power it held. But when it was turned on me, caused _by_ me, well that was something I could never have been prepared for. I am proud of myself for not gasping. My heart burst into flames in the best way imaginable, and though that may be a terrible metaphor, it is the closest I can come to describing the heat and happiness that flooded through me when I saw Dean smile, exploding outward from my heart to warm even the coldest pieces of my being.

Embarrassingly, I can’t even remember what I said, my mind was wiped blank in the face of my shock. I must have said something funny or interesting (hard to believe, I know, I am still struggling with that now) but whatever I said, it made Dean happy. I wish I could remember so that I could do it again.

It was amazing and nothing could ever replicate the feeling that I had, for the rest of the day. Even now as I write this, I am high on the feeling of it. Still riding the shockwave for as long as I can, so that I do not have to look back and see the ruin that was left behind in its wake. How am I ever going to get past Dean now that I have experienced this? I feel selfish, like I want to see that smile for me and only me for the rest of time. I know I am wretched, but at the moment, I couldn’t care less.

 

October 15

Forget what I said earlier, forget all of it. The world is illuminated by Dean’s laugh, and not even the force of his beautiful smile trained on me for a week straight would compare to how it was when he laughed. It was for me, again. How I was able to make such a being laugh is beyond me.

I don’t really understand what happened, to tell the truth. We were talking about the book we were reading in class, (which Dean hadn’t read, but he’s like that, he doesn’t like reading, and honestly, this book is terrible) I was explaining it to him. Then he said something about someone named Spock or something like that? I really have no idea. I believe it may have been a reference to something. And when I told him that I did not understand the reference he had made, Dean began to laugh. I’ll have to look it up.

I might have been hurt, but it wasn’t that kind of laugh. It wasn’t the hateful laugh of someone who is making fun of someone. I have heard that enough times to know the difference. This was a happy laugh, an amused one. I think Dean just thought it funny that I didn’t know. His laughter was kind and happy, and I couldn’t help but join in a little when I heard it.

He looked amazing, sitting there laughing. It was easy to disregard the sickly glow of the school’s lights the odd smell that classrooms have, and the faint buzz of chatter from everyone around me. Everything was Dean. He throws back his head when he laughs, and his whole body moves. His mouth opens wide and his eyes squeeze shut, the little crinkles in the corners of his eyes are perfect. The sight had me resisting the urge to reach out and touch him, like a person might reach for the sun. Dean is just as attainable.

(Hey, Dean is like the sun. He is hot and cute and bright, he lights up everything around him and brings life into the room. He impossible to ignore and never seems to run out of energy. And he has become as vital to me as the sun is to plants. He makes everyone happy.)

I feel like I am floating and made of light. Being the cause of such happiness has made the whole world a brighter place. If only Dean knew the influence he had.

I shudder to think about how it will feel coming down from this.

 

October 16

I enjoy talking with Dean. It is amazingly easy, at least it has come to be after the initial shock. He is funny and kind and entertaining. Often I forget we are in school, and always I am sad to see the class period end. He will talk about his car and I will talk about books. He doesn’t like to read but he has told me that he doesn’t mind hearing about the books when I tell about them. That left me with an odd fuzzy feeling all day. He talks about movies and shows, and I never understand, but that’s okay. (His favorite show, he told me in a whisper, is Dr. Sexy, M.D. he likes the man in cowboy boots apparently. I wonder…) We talk about food and colors and dogs and plants and anything at all. I could talk about anything with Dean Winchester and be happy, I think.

p.s. Apparently Spock is a character from a TV show that was known for being smart, and cold in the emotion department. I don’t know how I fell about this. 

 

October 23

Previously, I had been made of air, but now I am made of lead. The wind has been torn from my sails and I have been left to sink to the bottom of an ocean. But this isn’t bad, I don’t think at least. It will be better in the long run. I shouldn’t have let my heart run away from me so fast is all. In time I will learn how to breathe underwater and I will be fine. The sun has to set sometime.

Honestly, right now I am just being melodramatic. I am embarrassing myself even if I am the only one to ever read this. I feel dumb just admitting these things to myself.

It’s just that Dean has been gone all week and what not seeing him is doing to me, well, frankly this is what I deserve, not Dean’s smile. Because I feel as if I am a pathetic weak thing falling to pieces. I wish I could just get it over with and fall apart so that I could stop suffering.

Maybe I don’t deserve that either. It wouldn’t surprise me.

 

October 24

Dean was back today and he smiled just to say hello. And when he did, he called out and said “Hey Cas!”

I waved back, and after he looked away from me I pinched myself, but I do believe now that this is real. How, is beyond me. I think he is my friend. I am not used to having a friend. I even have a nickname now. Shortened version of my longer name. Castiel. Cas. What do I like better? I think that now I am Cas, because that is what Dean calls me. Cas is someone new, someone I am striving to be, and maybe someday I will deserve it. Maybe one day I could deserve Dean. I shy away from the thought but I would like so much for it to be true. I have never thought myself worth much. Maybe I wasn’t before. But now I have a friend. An incredibly attractive friend who will never _like_ me back, but any number is so much more than zero. You can multiply nothing by an infinity of numbers and it will never be anything more. You have to add to change zero. And me plus Dean, well I guess that’s something. And I’ll take anything I can get.

I talked to him later and he said his dad had dragged him and his brother out on a trip on short notice. He looked unhappy about that. I wish I knew what troubled him, but I was afraid to ask.

 

October 27

Oh God someone help me. I might not live through today.

 

October 28

I believe I was a bit brief in explaining my troubles yesterday. Allow me to elaborate.

Dean came to my house yesterday to work on a project we had gotten that day. We had to choose a partner and he asked me if I wanted to work with him. Being the fool I am, I said yes, only after realizing that this out of school project meant we would be seeing each other _out of school._ This shouldn’t be a big deal, it really shouldn’t but I can’t convince myself otherwise.

So anyways, Dean came to my house after school to work, and I am ashamed to say we did not get much done. That was due to the fact that I kept spacing out, looking at the sight of Dean sitting so comfortably in my house, shoes kicked off in the corner, socked feet resting on my floor, elbows leaning on the kitchen table, smell permeating the room. I must say it had me distracted. Everything about it felt so right.

Also, I have been reading way too many stories, and I feel like I should lay off of realistic fiction because some part of my brain was expecting this to be some life changing experience, where something happens to make everything go right for the main character, and I had selfishly claimed that role for myself. In stories, yesterday would have been the time where the two characters realized their feelings and everything went uphill from there. But all that happened was about two hours of awkwardness and unproductive poster making.

Maybe the clichés don’t really apply to two boys like us. I shouldn’t have claimed the role of main character for myself. It’s more like I am the side character, the ignorant friend to the love story of Dean and Lisa. Because, let me tell you, it looks to me that like they make the perfect couple. Happy cute, destined for an apple pie life in a suburb. He doesn’t want me and he shouldn’t.

Despite all of that, when Dean left, I was a bit sad to see him go, but I felt so happy. It wasn’t a fiery happiness like the first time he smiled for me, but a calm contentedness that relaxed my limbs and restless mind. I think I might end up okay being the sidekick. It will never stop hurting, but I am glad to have this.

 

October 29

Yesterday was good. Dean came over again and we got a lot more done. I think we are going to be really good friends. We get along well and work together well too. I enjoy his company and I might dare to say he likes being with me too. That does not help me in the fantasy department I am afraid to say. Makes me wonder really how well we could work together. I have to stop thinking about that though.

Today, we finished the project, and I think it turned out really well. Dean is smarter than he lets on, and smarter than he believes himself to be . He had really great ideas the whole time, and it was the first time I worked on a project where the other person made an equal contribution. I really enjoy working with Dean, once I stopped ogling him (mostly, that could never stop entirely) we worked very well together and the assignment was even fun. And when Dean left, he called over his shoulder with a grin, “see you tomorrow Cas.” My cheeks hurt from smiling, though my heart hurts from misery at the same time. These two conflicting feelings over Dean are going to rip me to pieces one of these days.

 

October 30

Today Dean came over again, even though the project was done, and we just hung out. I really enjoyed it. Dean decided I needed to be educated in the field of TV science fiction, and so we watched a few of the movies under the series name of “Star Wars,” I believe it was. I thought it a little odd, but Dean seemed to enjoy it, so that was good enough for me.

Dean and I get along extremely well, and though I know he is my best friend, I might be one of his. I have seen another side of him that people at school see. There, he is snarky and popular and cool. But I got to see the part of Dean that was a geek, watching sci-fi movies and getting so involved with the characters and plotline that you might think he got it confused with reality. He puts on a face at school, and I used to see through it a little, even when I didn’t talk to Dean. He doesn’t hide himself with me, and though I wonder why, I would never complain. I love all sides of Dean, from his bad boy bit in the leather and classic car to the kind and sweet older brother to the geek sitting on my couch laughing at cheesy special effects. I’m so far gone on this unattainable guy it’s not even funny.

 

October 31

Dean is wonderful person. I know I have said it before, but I must reaffirm this. Out of the blue, he invited me to come with him and Lisa and his brother Sam, who is only thirteen, trick or treating. I was wary but he convinced me (or course he did, I couldn’t say no to Dean if I tried, though that is a bit embarrassing). I wasn’t expecting something like this. I guess we are better friends that I imagined. No complaints here though.

Just watching Dean with his brother makes me so happy. It is so clear how much he loves Sam. I know Dean would do anything for Sam, who he affectionately calls “Sammy.” He is just so compassionate and caring and wonderful, I have run out of words to describe him. There are not enough magnificent things in the world to say about Dean. They don’t seem to do him justice.

Dean has a bright soul, I believe. He can’t see it, and sometimes that pains me. He is too busy looking out for others and seeing the good in them that he never once stops to think about himself or bother to make sure he is okay. Though it is straying very far into the realm of dangerous thoughts to say this, I wish I could make him see how amazing he is, I wish someone could be for Dean what he is for everyone else, and I wish it could be me.

Trick or treating was very enjoyable though. All of us were superheroes. Dean dressed as Batman, (I tried somewhat unsuccessfully to not stare too much. Do they always make superhero costumes that tight fitting, I mean _Jesus._ I had to not walk behind him). Sam was Superman, Lisa was Cat woman, and I was Robin. I hadn’t known what to be, but Dean told me that I should go like that to fit the theme. I had to look up the characters to understand, but I do now, and what I found was a bit funny and a bit sad. Looking back to a previous entry I made, it fits well with what I said. Dean is the main character, Lisa is the love interest, and I am the sidekick. Who knew Halloween costumes could be so symbolic?

We wandered around for a while, and got lots of candy. I don’t like it much, but that’s okay. I’ll probably end up giving it to Dean. Gabriel would have loved it but— (stopping myself here)

This was about spending time with Dean, not about the candy. Halloween’s a weird holiday anyways, wearing masks so that you won’t be recognized by the demons that haunt the night on Halloween, but I try not to consider that too much. It’s all in good spirit.

Oh, well I think that is the first time I have actually made a joke like that. I should tell Dean. Maybe he will laugh.

 

November 3

Dean did laugh. It made my day.

 

November 4

I have Dean’s phone number. Just as a friend for convenience and contact etc., I know, but I can’t help being happy about it. I can pretend that I have it for better reasons.

I can text him to say hello in the morning and can pretend he smiles when he sees it, even if he doesn’t I wouldn’t know, not really, but that is the point. When harboring a gigantic crush on your best friend, best to not think too hard about reality while enveloped in imagination.

It makes me irrationally happy when I see my phone light up, knowing it is from Dean. No one else texts me except Dean and my mom. And she doesn’t text to me much. I wonder if Dean knows that he is the only one that talks to me. Does he realize that there are things I have only said to him, certain opinions I have and how I feel that I have only told him. I have only known him for a few months, but he knows me pretty well there’s really only one big secret now. Well, two. But they go together. And he must never find out if I still want to have a friend.

 

November 8

I don’t know what to do. Dean texted me today, telling me that he and Lisa broke up. He said it was a mutual thing and that he was fine. But knowing Dean, he is broken up about it anyways. He has too much heart sometimes. He will blame himself for things not working out. I need to figure out how to convince him otherwise. I need him to see. I don’t know why they broke up, I won’t ask either, and I don’t understand it. They were so happy. They looked like they fit so well. But Dean tells me that it never quite felt right. I wonder what he means. I hope he is okay soon. I don’t know how to help him and it hurts me to see him upset.

 

November 10

I told Dean today that I don’t know how to help, and he said, with a sad smile that pained me to look at, “It’s okay Cas, you are helping just by being you, and by being here.”

I won’t deny the spark of happiness that gave me. Dean appreciates me. I help him just by being there. I feel guilty about that.

And I have to say now, though I feel like an awful person, there was a small part of me that was happy when they broke up. _I’ll never get him, but neither will she now, ha!_ Is what it thought. But mostly, I just want him to be happy. Whoever that ends up being, I will be okay with that. I will make myself be okay with it.

 

November 14

I had thought my world had fallen apart before and now I know I was wrong. This is worse.

Maybe it isn’t as bad as I think. But it so easily could be. The problem is that I can’t ask about it and class ended before we could figure it out. I am freaking out really badly right now. I can’t text him about something like this and I won’t see him until Monday, and it’s only Friday still.

Sorry, must not get ahead of myself. It’s just that Dean knows I like boys now. No one at school knows. I’ve never had a friend I’ve told before, or a boyfriend, there was no reason to tell anyone. Not even my mom knows.

Well, technically I didn’t tell Dean either. It was an accident. We were talking about celebrities and our favorite actors and actresses. Dean asked who I thought was the hottest celebrity, (his was some female I’d never heard of, who undoubtedly has a beautiful face and large breasts) and me and my loosened tongue (loosened by the drug that Dean has become) accidentally said Chris Evans. All I could see was the look of surprise on Dean’s face. He obviously realized what that meant. But then the bell rang and I ran away as fast as I could. I regret that now, but I still don’t know what else I could have done.

 

November 15

Dean must hate me now. He’s never going to want to talk to me again, I’m sure of it. Who would want to? The real me isn’t worth it! I probably scared him off,

 

November 16

What am I going to do? I don’t have friends anymore. What was my life like before Dean?

 

November 17

So now I am a bit ashamed of my entire weekend. I panicked over nothing it seemed. Dean spoke to me as if nothing had happened, although I caught him giving me a strange look ever once in a while. He thinks differently of me, but I might be so bold as to think that everything is still okay. It’s more than I could ever have wished for. Well, that isn’t quite true.

 

November 18

Things I like about Dean:

-His bright green shining eyes                                                                          

-His countless cute freckles

-especially that one right on the tip of his nose. _~~I want to kiss it~~_

-His smile and his perfect lips

-The way his eyes crinkle when he laughs or smiles

-His voice and his laugh

-The way his arms look when he wears a T-shirt

-How much he loves his brother

-His passion for his car and everything else he likes (movies etc.)

-His kind heart

-The face he makes when he’s concentrating

-The hilarious obsession with pie and the noises that go along with it

-His selflessness and caring

-His easy acceptance of everyone, no matter who they are

-The way he would give and give until none of him was left if no one stopped him

-Everything, his hands and eyes and mouth and feet and legs and backside and just everything

-Basically every little thing about his body and his personality

- ** _Dean_**

Dammit Dean for being so perfect. You’re ruining my life.

 

November 21

Today Sam and Dean and I went out to see a movie. I forgot the name, and I don’t remember much about it. It was some superhero movie, and it was good but I didn’t care much. I mostly watched Dean watch it. In the darkened theater, no one could see my eyes slide over to rest on Dean for most of the movie. I enjoyed the show, as much as Dean did, because I was happy watching him be happy. Did that even make sense?

 

November 23

I think I am in love with Dean. It really sucks. He’ll never know. Why must I be so miserable?

 

November 25

Dean tried to set me up with some guy. He said no one should not have any fun at all, that I should have kissed someone by now. And it made me so angry. I mean, the guy looked nice enough, I think his name was Balthazar or something crazy like that, but I insisted against it. Dean didn’t really understand why I was mad. How could he. I might have said yes if I hadn’t already been pining after some idiot of a best friend for over three months. It seems like so much longer. How in the world will I ever find someone if I am stuck on Dean like this? _~~Do I even want to?~~_

 

November 26

Dean apologized for yesterday. He apologized for assuming and promised to never do it again. He looked so sad and scared that I would stay mad at him. How could I ever stay mad at Dean? I care for him too much. So I, being the pushover that I am, said everything was fine.

Everything is not fine. This hurts more than ever.

 

December 1

Dean and I haven’t done much lately. Not much new anyways. We still sit next to each other in class and work together on projects. He comes over a few times a week and we watch TV and talk some. My mom really likes him. I think she’s just happy I have a friend. It would make her sad if I told her the truth, how I felt, so I won’t tell her. She doesn’t deserve my burden.

But anyways, we have been busy with the end of the school year coming up and haven’t had a lot of time. There’s also been something strange about Dean. He hasn’t looked me directly in the eye for some time now, and we talk less. I am worried that I have done something wrong, though I cannot think of what it could be. I have done my best. Maybe my best just isn’t good enough for anything good to last. Figures.

 

December 4

I asked Dean about it today, why he had been acting so strangely. He said he’d tell me later and I am really worried. He’s coming over after school tomorrow and I think we’re going to talk about it then. I am steeling myself for the worst, as that is what I am expecting. The look on his face was so conflicted that I could barely tell what was going on.

 

December 5

**YOU WON’T BELIEVE IT BUT DEAN**

No, I have to tell it right. I want to be able to go back to this and read it and make sure that what happened really happened. I still might not believe it but I have to try. I’ll write the dialogue down as best as I can remember.

So when Dean came over yesterday, I was so worried. I opened the door and smiled at him standing there despite that. Seeing Dean always makes me smile. He looked so unsure of himself standing there in my front doorway, as if he hadn’t been there so many times before. He was twisting his hands and I felt my stomach twist right alongside them.

“Hey Cas.” He sounded so hesitant, like he wasn’t allowed to call me by the name he had given me.

“Hello Dean. Come in.” _Please_ , I was thinking. _Please come in and we’ll make everything okay_.

And he did, stepping over the threshold quickly. We went to my room and I closed the door softly behind us. I don’t know why it had to be quiet. It just did.

Now here came the part I had been dreading. “Dean, you have to talk to me.”

“About what?” I think he was stalling.

“You know what. Tell me what’s wrong.” I was annoyed now, I must say, but not losing the nervousness.

“Yeah, I do.” Dean sighed and stood up from where he had plopped down on my desk chair. I was still standing by the door, uncertain of what to do. He came right up in front of me. I couldn’t breathe.

“Remember when we were talking about celebrities?”

 _Oh no here it comes_ was what I thought. But I nodded, my face as blank as I could make it.

“Well I lied about my favorite.”

I just blinked, unsure of where he was going with this.

“It’s really that guy who plays Dr. Sexy.”

  1. My mind was blank. Was Dean saying what I thought he was saying? No, he couldn’t be, I decided. I must have defective ears. I think I let out a small sound of surprise, though I can’t be sure.



Dean kept talking though. “And after Lisa, I got to thinking, about you, really.”

I am not sure what all he said here, sorry, I was a bit preoccupied at the time. With lips shaping words and his breath just barely whispering across my face.

“And I noticed something.”

“Oh?” I believe was the word came out at this point.

“Yeah. For a while I was scared I was crazy. There was no way I could have someone like you. But then I saw you looking back at me, and recognized a little of my own feeling in that glance. Maybe I’m imagining everything, and you can never see me again if I am. So stop me if I’m wrong, but I think both of us want this.” He had lost all of the nervousness now, I guess he had committed himself to what he was going to do and that gave him confidence. I am so glad it did.

Because right then, Dean Winchester took another step forward, and another, until his toes touched my own and I could feel the heat of him and smell the soft mint of his breath. I could see every detail in those green eyes I had come to love so much. And then, he kissed me. At first I did nothing, being too surprised as well as having no experience whatsoever, but just as it felt like he was going to pull back, I regained my senses and pulled him closer. He had put his hand on my cheek to pull my face to his and I could feel his fingers moving just slightly on the skin there. I could feel his stubble on my skin and tasted something sweet on his lips. I can’t even describe all the sensations that overloaded my senses.

I had wanted to do this for so long, and I am pretty sure I told him so. You know, between the gasps and moans and breaths of the kiss. It was my first kiss, and Dean knew it, and it was the best thing I have ever experienced. It went on for I don’t know how long. It was wet and sloppy and felt like we were both holding back, but it was still perfect. My brain was just a haze of pleasure and happiness and DEAN. We kissed and kissed, and I think it went into the realm of what people call making out, before we broke apart, grinning like idiots and gasping for breath. Dean had to go home to take care of Sam, and both of us were sad to see him go. But he said he would come over tomorrow.

Was it even real? It must have been. The assurance I have now is the faint taste of him still lingering on my lips after he had to go home. My lips are still a little swollen and a little bit wet. I couldn’t be happier. My heart is soaring so high it has left the earth. That would explain why I can’t breathe. I am a cloud and a bird and the embodiment of ecstasy. I don’t have the words for how happy I am, how filled with joy and just… everything. Dean likes me too it would seem, and oh my goodness, he kissed me... After the long months of all of that heartache, it has come to this. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe good things can happen to me. Maybe I can have Dean. I barely dare to believe it, but I know it is true. In the end, it was me who was lucky enough to have Dean. I just hope I can keep him.

 

December 6

I have found my new favorite pastime. And that would be learning how to kiss with Dean Winchester. He came over today and it was very… informational. Dean is a wonderful kisser, and says I am good too , though he’s probably just saying that. I’m clumsy and sloppy. But he seems to like it and God knows I love it too.

Though I might pass out one of these days from oxygen deprivation. I feel like a lovesick idiot and I don’t even care. It’s worth it for the feeling of Dean pressed into me, his mouth on mine, my fingers in his hair, and his hands under my shirt on my bare back. What makes it even more worth it just having Dean, all of him. Not just his body but his soul. I feel like I hold it in my hands sometimes and I am in a daze of feeling. I would die for that, I think, without a second thought.

 

December 13

Dean and I went on a date today. Our first real one, I guess. His parents don’t know, apparently he hasn’t come out to them yet, but my mom does now (she took it wonderfully well), and Sam knows. That’s good enough for us at this point. I don’t really know what we are yet. We kiss after school and throw each other glances in class and maybe hold hands while we watch TV.

But today we went to lunch, since it was Saturday, and it was really nice. He took me to this place that serves burgers and pie (of course). He knows the owner and her daughter, and they seem like nice people. (Jo and Ellen Harvelle, I believe?) I am glad Dean decided to share this place and these people with me. The burgers were amazing and I could just hug the woman, Ellen, for making a pie that Dean just _enjoys_ so much. It was quite a pleasure to watch him eat it. I must have been grinning stupidly across the table, because Dean laughed and asked me what I was looking at. I just said “you.” It was true, and I didn’t have to hide it anymore. Dean smiled at that and teased me a little, but I could tell he was happy and didn’t mean it is being mean. We talked for a long while, but eventually we had to leave. It was the best day I have ever had. The kiss in his car might have helped too.

I love every moment I am with Dean. I love Dean. Can I love him after this short of a time? I don’t know what else to call this. I never believed in love at first sight, but now… I am having doubts. Every moment somehow makes me happier than I was before, and I never stop smiling anymore. I don’t have to pretend to be happy anymore and that is amazing. And to see that look of affection mirrored in Dean’s eyes, well that just makes it twice as good.

 

January 1

It has been so long, nearly a month since I last wrote. So much has happened, and yet so little. Dean and I grow closer, but in a way things didn’t really change. We talk all the time, we go to his house or my house after school, work on stuff, watch movies and shows (all recommended by Dean, I am becoming very pop culture savvy), we spend a lot of time together. The difference is that there is a lot less suppressed longing and quite a lot more kissing and touching and smiling and dates. I like it better like this. I have become a passable kisser, I think, thanks to Dean, and certainly more talented with my mouth at least.

This book was for matters that I needed to confide in someone for. And for a while, that was my complicated feelings about Dean. But now that I have him, and now that most firsts are over with, there isn’t a lot of struggle to write down. There is just happiness. I wanted to make an entry today because it is a new year, I felt like I had to do something, had to finish the story I had started in my journal.

Most people make New Year’s resolutions, and very few keep them. That’s because they pick unimportant things, like going to the gym more. I am going to try to make a list of resolutions, and I very much plan on following through. It’s going to be hard though, I’ll write them here:

-make more friends besides Sam and Dean

-tell Dean about Gabriel (without crying, please)

-not get a B in Language arts this semester due to being distracted by a certain Winchester

-tell Dean I love him

Maybe these seem small, but they are huge, and important, and I will make them happen.

 

January 24

Today was Dean’s birthday! He didn’t want to do much, and so we didn’t. But I did take him out to dinner. And I got him a present. It was an album he had been saying he wanted. It was nice and small and I am so happy. The expression in Dean’s eyes when he looks at me turns my legs to mush and releases butterflies into my stomach. It took me while actually, to believe that he cared as much as I do. Sometimes I still doubt it due to the light I see myself in. but that has been changing, and when Dean looks at me with love in his eyes, like he never wants to let me go and still can hardly believe I’m there in his arms, I want that for the rest of my life. I don’t know if I deserve it, but I want to so badly. I want Dean and only Dean. Forever Dean. I almost told him so today, but I couldn’t. I settled for a kiss, long and slow and sweet. I tried to show him how I felt with every movement. I tried to put how much I cared into that action, to show him with every kiss and touch and embrace that I love him and I want to be with him forever. Just not in so many words, I’m afraid.

 

February 14

Valentine’s Day! Dean and I went on a date today, and it would have been the perfect time to say it, that last resolution I made, but I couldn’t. I was too scared.  The rest of the day was nice though, Dean’s a big sweetheart on the inside, and Valentine’s Day involved lots of chocolate and innocent cuddling, and not so innocent cuddling. Perfect despite that one thing I failed to do.

 

February 27

I’m going to tell Dean about Gabriel tomorrow since it will be the anniversary, I have to. It is easier than telling him the other thing, though on the other side of the spectrum of feelings. I haven’t told anyone about Gabriel, but I haven’t had a friend or boyfriend before. (Even now, after so many months, the word, _boyfriend_ , it makes me irrationally happy and makes me shiver with delight.) I need to tell Dean though. He has been asking why I am getting so sulky, and I can’t help it around this time of year. He deserves to know.

I need to write about is first though, figure out the words.

Gabriel was my friend a long time ago, elementary school. We were close, like brothers. He was really annoying, but it was endearing. He always had a piece of candy in his mouth and a smirk on his face. He was short and loud, and he was my best friend in the world. And one day he had died. He was killed. I had never lost anyone before, my dad had already left before I knew him. And I had been so close to Gabe. He was my only ever real friend. What makes it worse is that it was my fault in a way. We were having a lockdown. We thought it was a drill, like it always was, and we were in the bathroom when it was called over the announcements. We were running, laughing, back to the classroom when he found us. There was a man in the hallway holding a gun. Gabe pushed me behind him, told me to run. The man said something I don’t remember, and I ran. I heard the gunshot a moment later and froze in shock, only to be pulled into a classroom by a teacher I didn’t know. I never saw Gabe again. It was the worst day of my life. I hope I don’t cry when I tell Dean. I don’t want him to see me cry.

 

February 28

I failed the second part of this resolution. I did cry. I cried and cried and he held me and kissed me and told me it was gonna be okay. And I think I believed him. I wish Dean knew how much I loved him . I didn’t think I would make it through today unscathed, but I almost feel... better. Like a little bit of the weight is gone after all these years. I never thought that could happen. Amazing, what love does to a person.

 

March 12

I almost told him today. I as so close. What stopped me?

 

April 1

Dean is a terrible prankster. Someone needs to tell him that neither itching powder nor whoopee cushions are hilarious. I’ll have to get him back for this next year.

Maybe I should have told him today? Took it back if he freaked out, yell “April Fools” and slink off to nurse my wounds . That might be a terrible idea. Either way, it isn’t happening. Not today.

 

April 5

I know Dean cares about me. I’ve seen it and I’ve felt it. And those three little words are threatening to break me apart if I don’t let them out soon. But I can’t. I just can’t say it. I don’t know if I ever can. What if when I say it, Dean realizes he was wrong, that he doesn’t care anymore and that he never wanted this? What if he leaves because I am too clingy? What if he doesn’t say it back, just smirks a little, that knowing look in his eye? I am so naïve sometimes. What if I am wrong about him? I am so scared to find out, in case the answer would rip me apart. I couldn’t ever recover from Dean. If I lost him, I might just wither up and die.

 

April 15

I got to the first word today. I said, “I…” and I stopped. Dean looked at me funny but didn’t say anything. We shrugged it off and I swallowed down the bile and worry at my situation. This is really a problem. He needs to know and I need to say it and if things go to crap well then I guess better sooner than later, right? I’m gonna do it tomorrow for sure. Wish me luck!

 

April 16

I didn’t do it. Don’t judge me. There wasn’t a good time. It has to be perfect.

 

May 2

Today was Sam’s birthday. You should have seen how happy and proud Dean was of his little brother. It is amazing to watch the two of them. Dean is always talking about how smart Sam is and how Sam’s going to grow up and become a big fancy lawyer and go to law school, and all about what Sam did and just Sam, Sam, Sam. I don’t mind though, not at all. I love to see Dean so happy, and almost nothing makes Dean happier than Sammy does . I love watching Dean’s eyes light up when he talks about Sam, even if he was having a bad day, he cheered up if Sam came up. I cheered him up too, but it was different. Dean loves me (I think) but Sam is family, Dean loves him, and is full of pride, and it makes me so happy to see him like that. It makes me love him more, if that’s possible.

 

May 10

We went on a picnic today, just me and Dean. It sounds super cheesy, and honestly it was. I know Dean hates what he calls “chick-flick” moments, but he is the king  of them sometimes. He even had the basket and a checkered blanket. I loved the blush on his cheeks, he was a bit embarrassed, and I kept telling him how much I loved this. What I really meant by “I love this” was “I love you.” I don’t know if he heard me, but it was great. He makes awesome sandwiches, and kissing the condiments off of his mouth was delightful. We laid on the blanket (cuddling, I might add) for a long time. I actually said it into his mouth once. I mumbled “I love you” into his lips. He couldn’t hear me though, it was unintelligible. But now I am one step closer. Maybe I can do it before the school year ends.

 

May 29

I was thinking about my resolutions and haven’t gotten to the one I really wanted yet. School has been rushing by, and senior year just finished. I made one of the resolutions though. I got an A in Language Arts (no thanks to Dean ). Now I can check that one off the list. Graduation was today. It feels so odd to be going to college. I don’t know if I’m ready. Dean and I are both going to the same college, so there will be that. I think it will be fun. 

 

June 5

Happy birthday to me.

I couldn’t have had a better birthday, I think. No, I definitely could not have. It was wonderful and perfect, thanks to Dean.

We went to the park and walked around and went swimming. We went out to dinner and then we came home and Dean gave me my presents. I had told him that I didn’t really care about birthdays but he laughed at me.no matter my opinions, I smiled when I unwrapped the books he gave me, and the card nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I wrapped him up in a hug and I fully intended to never let him go. I resolved right then that I wouldn’t. I always felt that way, but it felt different somehow today. Maybe that was partly because of the words I whispered in his ear.

I said it. I said, “I love you Dean.” And the world didn’t explode. Nothing fell apart.

What did happen was that Dean held me a little tighter, buried his face in my neck and whispered back, “I love you too.” It was simple and beautiful and made my whole world glow. Why did I wait so long to say it?

 

June 7

Not much changes when the words come out, I think. But I feel so much better, so much lighter. So much happier, and things are so perfect that I am scared for them a little. I am in love and it is the most wonderful and the most terrifying thing to ever happen to me.

 

 

August 12

It has been three years since I wrote in this book. I lost it a long time ago, misplaced somewhere in the clutter of life. I was sad for so long, feeling like I had lost part of myself, part of Dean, and part of our relationship, even though he never knew I was writing in it like I was. Then I realized I didn’t need it. Anything I thought I could tell to Dean. I don’t need a book to confide in anymore because I have what it was substituting all along. A friend, a companion, someone who loves me no matter what. I have Dean.

But recently, as I was moving, I found this dusty little black book tucked into a book of old school stuff. And the flood of memories came back. The awkward little teenager discovering love. I was such an innocent little fool back then, and it makes me laugh to remember it. And remembering Dean from back then makes me smile as well. Dean always makes me smile, even now, even with all this time together, he still never ceases to amaze me. Every day it seems I find a new way to love him and a way to make my heart beat fast anew. I love Dean so much it aches, but it is the best kind of pain. And there is so much more happiness than it will ever hurt. I can’t believe I am where I am now.

When I found my journal again, it was when Dean and I moved into our own apartment a few days ago. We still have another year or so of college, and had been living in the dorms. It has only been a couple days, but already I know that I like this so much better. Dean is majoring in engineering, and I in literature and teaching. We are both surrounded by what we love. Life is good.

I think I might show Dean this journal, let him laugh at me as a lovesick teenager. I am no longer embarrassed by it, and I know Dean would get a kick out of reading this. So would I, I think. And his laugh and his smile still light up my life without fail.

 

August 13

I had forgotten what it was like to write in my journal. I don’t need it anymore, but I still enjoy it, I think. It feels good to see my thoughts laid out in front of me.

I showed Dean the journal yesterday. Some of it did make him laugh, some made him sad, and some made him get this look in his eye and pull me into a tight hug that lasted a while, and whisper love into my ear. I wasn’t objecting, I held him back just as tight if not tighter.

I am going to put this away now, maybe slip it into a shelf so I can see it, look at it every once in a while. But I don’t think I will write here anymore. I am finally closing the book.

 

November 5

It has been a little over a year since I thought I was done here. But something happened today, and I don’t believe this book is complete without it.

Our lives have continued as before. College finished, we moved into a little cheap apartment down the street from where Dean got a job as a mechanic, and a few blocks away from the school where I just started teaching eighth grade Language Arts. We both love our jobs, though neither pays well, we are where we want to be. Surrounded by words and cars and children and grease. Actually, that sound really weird. I believe you know what I meant though.

I have gotten a bit sidetracked. Today was one of the most amazing days of my life. Because today, I whispered yes and got a ring slipped onto my finger. He knew I wouldn’t want anything very special. So he did it in the living room with a shiny silver band and a bottle of cheap wine in the fridge for after. Maybe other would have been disappointed by the simplicity, but I thought it was perfect. I don’t care about any of the extravagancies, as long as I have Dean. And I will forever now. The thought still has a surreal feeling. But writing it here is helping me solidify it. The weight is settling onto me, the now warm metal s pressing into my finger as I write, and I am beginning to fully understand. And unlike when so often realizing the reality of a situation makes it worse, reality makes this better. The soft, warm, realness, the fullness of my heart and the happiness wrapped around me like a blanket. I feel grounded and solid and wonderful. And unlike before, this doesn’t feel dangerous. This feels permanent and safe. I am not teetering on a cloud, I am standing solidly on a mountain that I know I never have to descend. Dean is mine, forever now. My rock, my happiest place, my heaven on earth. I love him. Once, the words didn’t feel like they were enough to describe this. But I have come to truly understand what those words mean, and now I know they are more than enough. They are simple and perfect and everything. They grow with me and him, they never expire, they never wear out. I will never tire of hearing them and saying them. That is what love is to me now. And I have the rest of my life to experience every facet of it.

This truly is the end of this book, from shaky beginning to solid end. Maybe thinking a book for being for me is silly, but I would like to anyway. Thank you for being there. Thank you for listening to me and holding me together when I thought I was falling apart. You have done so much for me, and now your burden is lifted.

Castiel (soon to be) Winchester


End file.
